Away From the Moulin Rouge
by LoveKittyPaw
Summary: Another alternate ending-Satine didn't die in the end but was captured by the duke-It's good, I swear! please read and review. I LOVE REVIEWS. Thank you.
1. Chapter One

**Author's note** No, I do not own anything even associated with Moulin Rouge in the slightest way, though I wish I did! ^_^ Then I would be able to live off more than just cornbread and rice. = ) I mixed some French in here just for fun, translations are at the bottom. If anything is wrong, please let me know! Reviews are much appreciated. Thank you very much, or in French, Merci Beaucoups!  
  
Satine opened her eyes to harsh, uncomfortably bright sunlight. *I'm alive.* She immediately sat up and stared around at her surroundings. She was lying on a bed with soft white lacy sheets, next to a window with matching curtains. Also inside the room was an attractive wood dresser and nightstand. Though the room was decorated tastefully, it had a cold, almost impersonal feel. But the first thing that went through her mind was *this is not Christian's garret.* Staring outside the window, she saw that the view was of a tranquil city road, not the bright scene of the Moulin Rouge. *So where am I?* Her question was answered almost immediately by the soft sigh of the door as it was opened.  
  
"Awake my sweet?" said the duke walking into the room, his pinched, mousy face showing a different emotion than his syrupy words. Satine's face drained of any color that was left in it, but quickly recovered and smiled, but the smile did not reach her eyes.  
  
"My dear duke." She answered, straining to keep the anger out of her voice. She quickly switched to her "Sparkling Diamond" persona as she added, "would you please tell me exactly where I am, and how I have come to be here?"  
  
"Well my dear, " said the duke, his voice littered with fake concern, " after you fell unconscious onstage, I had it ordered that you were brought to me once you were taken from that," here his words faltered as he finished in a strangled voice, "writer. So, because of your frail health, I brought you to my own home in Paris where you have been for two days." *Because of my frail health*. Satine thought bitterly. *And also the small fact that you own me will do whatever it takes to keep me from Christian.* Throughout this, she managed to keep the smile pasted on her face, though it grew thinner and thinner. *But my smile still stays on*. She thought, with another unhappy inner laugh.  
  
"Why thank you for your generosity and concern, dear duke. But it seems that I am still weary, so if you would be so kind as to leave me so I can rest..." she trailed off. The duke nodded and smiled, but she could see through his façade. The duke, no matter how many false laughs and smiles he put on, was still madly jealous. And still meant to have Christian killed. He left the room and closed the door roughly and loudly behind him, portraying his true emotions. Satine collapsed back into her cushions. She hadn't been completely lying; she was still very tired. But the future was laid out in front of her all too clearly: the duke meant to keep her here with him as his prisoner. Forever. She suspected that the only reason he had not locked the door behind him was because he believed her too weak to get out of bed. Well, he had once again underestimated her and she and Christians' love. Satine rose and walked over to the dresser and idly opened one of the drawers, wondering if  
the duke had thought ahead enough to bring any of her clothes. Surprised, she lifted out one of her dresses, a royal blue and white silk. Opening the other drawers, she found more dresses, her jewelry boxes, and lingerie. Spotting a closet in the right corner of the room, Satine pulled open the doors to reveal yet more clothes. It seemed that the duke had brought practically her whole wardrobe. Conveniently, in the corner of the closet, was a small suitcase, probably placed there thoughtlessly by the same maid that unfolded all of Satine's clothes. Satine smiled indulgently. This was almost too easy. She would leave tonight and pay for a carriage to Montmarte by pawning some of her jewelry. Then she would go back to the Moulin Rouge and find Christian, and go away together. Away from the duke, away from the Moulin Rouge, away from her past. Satine crawled back into bed, taking careful pains to make it look like she hadn't disturbed anything in the room. She closed her eyes  
and rested until the thick blanket of night was pulled over the sky.  
  
****  
  
The pinpricks of stars and the golden orb of the moon lit Satine's bedroom with a filtered, soft, almost white light. She got up, the adrenaline in her body eliminating all signs of sleepiness. Moving quickly and calculatedly quiet, Satine got dressed in the blue and white dress she had pulled out earlier and twisted her fiery hair into a bun, which she hid under a wide brimmed white hat. Pulling on cashmere gloves, she realized with dismay that she had no jacket to ward of the cold. "Oh well," she sighed. She carefully packed away all the clothes the suitcase could hold and put on all the jewelry she thought would buy a carriage under her high-necked dress and put the rest in the suitcase. She breathed deeply to quell her nervousness, and whispered almost inaudibly, "Come what may." Then, grabbing the suitcase, she peered out of the window, looking to see if anyone was walking the streets at this late hour. As she had suspected, nobody was. Fortunately, her window was on  
the first floor, and she carefully lifted the latch, biting her lip in concentration as she tried not to make a sound. The window opened, thankfully soundless, and Satine climbed out, uncharacteristically ungraceful, because she was hindered by the length of her dress. She stared up at the house, and realizing she had been holding her breath, exhaled, the puff of breath fogging out in white tendrils from the cold September air. The house was completely silent. Satine walked away, careful to keep in the inky shadows. All she had to do was get out onto the nearest non- residential road and call for a carriage. Satine continued on two blocks to the right when she spotted a small carriage sitting on the side of the street. " Bonjour, monsieur, (1)" she said, walking up to the driver, who was bundled up warmly. "I need a ride to the nearest pawn shop and then to Montmarte, S'il vous plait. (2)" The driver stared at her.  
  
"Montmarte? Are you sure mademoiselle?" Satine nodded. "Tres bien,(3) please climb in." said the driver, still bewildered. Satine obeyed, and the driver clucked to the horse and slapped the reins as the horse whinnied softly and set out at a gentle trot. The carriage was rolling along quietly for about 10 minutes when Satine asked,  
  
"Pardon monsieur?"  
  
"Oui? (3)" said the driver, turning to face the side of the carriage.  
  
"Quelle heure est ile?(4)" asked Satine.  
  
"Il est minuit.(5)" Answered the driver. Satine nodded and sat back. Good. It was midnight and it didn't look like anyone was following her or had even realized she was gone. But in the morning they most certainly would, she thought with a sigh. When she got to Montmarte, Christian would most likely be sleeping. Her thoughts drifted back to the times she had shared with Christian at the Moulin Rouge and how happy she had been then. Poor Christian! He thought she was dead... Satine's trickle of thoughts slowly turned into quiet, almost lazy dreams. Suddenly, the carriage drifted slowly to a stop at the sign that read "Montmarte".  
  
"Pardon, madam." Said the driver. Satine jerked awake. "We have arrived." Satine stared at the sign in a sleepy incomprehensibility before exclaiming,  
  
" Non(6) monsieur, you were supposed to take me to the pawn shop first." She accused. The driver smiled.  
  
"This ride was free of charge, madam." Satine looked at him suspiciously at first as she got out of the carriage, and then gave the driver a genuine radiant smile.  
  
"Merci beaucoups monsieur. That was very kind."  
  
"De rein.(7) Bonsoir (8) mademoiselle." Said the driver as he guided the horse away.  
  
"Adieu.(9)" Said Satine to the driver's back as he drove away, but he probably didn't hear. Satine smiled happily. Maybe luck was starting to turn her way. She walked through the familiar streets of Montmarte, busiest at this hour. Prostitutes lined the streets, dressed in their most revealing clothes despite the weather, their eyes caked in heavy makeup, trying to beckon potential customers. Bohemians, giggling as they drank glass after glass of Absinthe talked loudly to one another. Then, the Moulin Rouge came into site, the glittering red mill illuminating the light sky around it, and the huge elephant standing bright and empty without her. Taking a breath, she saw the garret where Christian lived directly across from the Moulin Rouge. She walked up to the building and went inside, climbing the rickety staircase up to his room. She paused at his door, unmarked except for the peeling paint, before almost hesitantly turning the doorknob and going inside. Christian lay on  
his bed, turned towards Satine, his face lined heavily with grief even in his sleep. He slept fitfully, not even bothering to cover himself with a blanket. It didn't seem like he had even changed clothes since the opening night of Spectacular Spectacular. She walked over to him, gently smoothing his hair away from his forehead. Her hear broke to see him like that. She kneeled down by the side of his bed and touched his shoulder, about to shake him awake. But he had already opened his eyes sleepily, and she saw that they were red from crying. Sleepiness turned to surprise, and then to hopeful disbelief.  
  
"Satine?" he asked hoarsely, not able to believe it was true. He sat up and molded his hand around her cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin, so unlike the coldness when he had held her last. "Oh my God." He whispered.  
  
"It's really me, Christian. I'm all right." Christian gasped, pressing kisses all over her face, more to try to convince himself that it was really her.  
  
"Oh my God Satine." He said, kissing her lips, her cheeks, her forehead. "I thought...I thought you were dead." She sat on the bed next to him, resting her head against his chest. He tightened his arms around her almost fiercely, smelling the scent that was uniquely Satine. She told him what happened, all about the duke, and that they had to get away, had to get away now.  
  
"But Christian...where will we go?" she asked, tilting her head so she looked into his eyes. He smiled reassuringly.  
  
"I don't care. I don't care Satine. We have each other now - that's all that matters."  
  
**Author's note** Hey, hope you liked it! PLEASE REVIEW! Chapter Two will be up soon! ^_^  
  
French words:  
  
(1) Hello Sir  
  
(2) please  
  
(3) yes  
  
(4) What time is it?  
  
(5) It's midnight  
  
(6) no  
  
(7) you're welcome  
  
(8) good evening  
  
(9) goodbye 


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two  
  
Satine and Christian decided that they would go to the train station first and then decide what to do next. Since the duke was undoubtedly going to realize or had already found out that she was gone, Christian said that it was important to get as much of a head start that they could. He quickly packed up the small amount of things that he had with him, and they both set out into the cold pre-dawn light. For September in Paris, the wind had an unusual frosty bite to it, and their breath fogged out in front of them like a finely wrought mist. Satine shivered, chills racing up and down her spine in tiny jolts. Christian, ever the gentleman, shrugged out of his coat and placed it around her shoulders. She smiled gratefully and leaned into his side as he wrapped an arm around her slender waist. He sighed happily, the warmth of her body banishing any effects of the cold. When she had died, there had been such an indescribable sadness it didn't seem that life was worthy of living  
anymore. *What would I ever have done if she was really dead?* he thought, a brief icy grip of fear tearing at his heart. But it quickly dissolved to be replaced by the warmth of love. *Thank God I don't have to face that.* They rounded a corner that put the gate out of Montmarte into plane view, lit almost eerily in the nighttime mixture of light and shadow. Satine bowed her head, letting the brim of the hat obscure her features. People she didn't want to see and could ruin everything if they saw her lurked in the corners of alleyways and streets. It was best that, to the people of Montmarte, Satine, the "Sparkling Diamond" of the Moulin Rouge, remain in her grave. They strode through the gate, and Satine didn't look back. That part of her life, being the jewel of the underworld, was dead. Christian, as if sensing her thoughts, smiled and pulled her closer to him.  
  
"I love you darling." He said quietly, the simplicity of his words fading away any lingering doubts.  
  
"I love you too." Answered Satine. Yes, this was brighter, purer, and more wonderful than anything at the Moulin Rouge. They crossed the street to a parked carriage, the driver breathing into his gloved cupped palms to warm them. The horse whinnied, half out of impatience and half out of the dry cold, his stomping hooves stirring up dew from the street.  
  
"To the nearest train station, monsieur." Said Christian, helping Satine into the carriage.  
  
" It is unusual to have costumers on such a cold night, and at such an unfavorable hour." Said the driver, surveying the couple with something akin to suspicion. Christian gave the driver a very firm look that said plainly, "you don't ask questions, we don't ask questions."  
  
"Alright, alright. Your business is your own, so as long as you pay." Said the driver, shifting uncomfortably. He clucked to the horse, who trotted out happily, eager to get warm. Satine leaned up against Christian inside, feeling the excitement that had given her a much needed rush start to drain away.  
  
"Tired love?" Christian asked with a smile.  
  
"Oh, yes Christian, very much." Satine tried to stifle a yawn, but it came anyway. "Mmm, wake me when we get to the station, please?" she didn't wait for an answer, but yawned again and snuggled into Christian like he was a giant teddy bear as she closed her eyes. The carriage rolled along quietly, only the echo of the horse's hooves and the faint creak of the wheels to be heard. Finally it rolled to a stop next to a sleepy, almost vacant train station.  
  
"Darling, we're here." Said Christian as Satine shifted and opened her eyes sleepily.  
  
"Oh, do we have to get out? Let's stay in Montmarte just one more night. I'm so tired..." she attempted to close her eyes again, but Christian sat her up.  
  
"Come on. You're just always a bit grumpy when you wake up." Said Christian with a wicked smile.  
  
"Oooh you...! Well, you're grumpier." Pouted Satine as she got out. Christian paid the driver, who still surveyed them oddly, and walked up to the ticket booth. There was a train already on the platform, and the sleepy conductor looked like he'd much rather be in bed than at a cold deserted train station. Christian looked at the train schedule before turning to Satine.  
  
"Well, where should we go?" he asked. Satine read the times carefully and her eyes lit up as she read over one name.  
  
"Oh Christian!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together in excitement like a small child. "Let's go to-." But before she could finish, from the entrance strode a strangely familiar figure.  
  
"Going so soon my sweet?" said the person in a nasal voice. Satine gasped almost inaudibly. " Yes, I heard you leave my house. Such a naughty girl. And naughty girls must be punished." Continued the duke in an almost taunting voice. Christian walked in front of Satine, hiding her from view.  
  
"You can't scare us. We're leaving, and there's nothing you can do." He said fiercely.  
  
"My dear boy, I believe you're forgetting one thing. Satine is bound to me, until *my* dying day." The duke chuckled darkly. "Ironic, don't you think?"  
  
" Dear duke, " said Satine, stepping boldly forward, " I do believe that you are in our way. We are leaving *now*" she said, clutching Christian's hand and walking unwaveringly forward.  
  
"No, I believe the only one's leaving *now* are you and me, Satine." Said the duke gesturing into the darkness. "That is, unless you want your precious writer killed." From behind him came his manservant, Warner, who briefly opened up his jacket to reveal a gun. Satine inhaled shakily, the familiar tightening in her chest choking off her breath. How well he played this game. She lifted her head. But she could play it better.  
  
**Author's Note** End of chapter Two! Hope you enjoyed it! ^_^ I noticed some minor inaccuracies between chapters one and two (I'm stupid, I know! Hehe) And changed some very small things in chapter one. I also decided to cut out all the French, as I thought it was a little distracting and didn't really work in the story. Chapter three will be up soon! Enjoy! 


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three  
  
Satine stepped backward, pressing her back into Christian's chest, her breathing now coming in ragged gasps. "I have to go with him." She whispered so only he could hear her.  
  
"No." he hissed back vehemently, his warm breath burning the cold exposed skin of her neck.  
  
"Yes." She parried back just as strongly. "He'll kill you otherwise." For the duke's benefit, her face remained emotionless, but her tears were evident in her voice, if not in her face.  
  
"We'll run, Satine. We'll...we'll get on a train. He won't be able to find us." Said Christian, desperation now becoming evident. He linked her hands with his, squeezing them in a wordless beg not to go. Satine shook her head.  
  
"He's a powerful man, Christian. He won't rest until you're dead and I'm his." He remained silent, but she could almost physically feel his despair. "I love you Christian, until the end of time. I'll get away from him and find you again, I promise. Come what may." She breathed out quietly. Then she untangled her hands from his and stepped forward, tossing her head up proudly, but inside she was sobbing uncontrollably.  
  
"Alright dear duke, you can have your property back." She said, stepping up to him, her face the perfect mask of calm and control. Christian made a move to come forward, but Satine stopped him with a pleading look.  
  
"Good my dear, it seems you have finally come to your senses." Said the duke, putting a hand around her waist. Not tenderly, as Christian did, but as an act of ownership. Satine wanted to draw away from his touch, but she remained motionless and stared back at Christian, the sadness and hopelessness in his eyes reflected in hers. "Come then my pet," continued the duke, steering her away from Christian. Satine glanced over her shoulder once before staring, resigned, ahead. "And I believe we can get rid of this, right sweet?" he said, pulling off Christian's coat and flinging it onto the muddy ground. Satine stared down wordlessly, her body quivering in silent anger. "Oh also Warner," added the duke to his manservant he left behind, "kill the boy." Satine gasped, and whirled around, but the duke had already prepared for her reaction. He had both of his arms firmly around her waist pinning down her arms, but she fought wildly to get back to Christian, who was being held in a  
chokehold as Warner reached for his gun and slid the silencer on.  
  
"NO! CHRISTIAN!" she screamed, and managed to free one of her arms to smash the duke's nose. The duke yelled, astonished, and reached a hand up to his face, loosing his hold enough for Satine to escape. Christian, meanwhile, had somehow kicked Warner in the knee and instep, and the manservant buckled as Satine knocked the gun out of his hand. Christian ducked out of his grasp and gave Warner a hard punch across the face, turning his cheek and eyes a nasty shade of crimson before turning to a sick combination of yellow and purple.  
  
"Come Satine, HURRY!" Christian yelled, grabbing her wrist as he ran toward the train that was just going to depart from the platform, not caring where it was going. He and Satine slid into the only open car as the doors closed behind them. The train chugged out of the station slowly and then more rapidly, the whistle's blow shrieking through the air like a feminine scream. Satine collapsed, gasping, into the cushions, her breath wheezing in her throat. Sweat lined her forehead like a crown of glistening diamonds, and her skin faded to an off-white color. Christian turned to her, still catching his breath, and then paled when he saw her condition. "Satine? Satine, what's the matter?" he asked desperately, grasping her arms to steady her. She coughed violently, covering her mouth with her hand, her fingers becoming stained with blood and a crimson trickle flowing down her chin. His eyes searched her face frantically, realizing with a burst horror that this was like a mirror  
image of the opening night of "Spectacular Spectacular." She leaned in against his chest, still hacking convulsively, each powerful cough shaking her body. He folded his arms around her, moving so he could see her face, terrified and not knowing what to do. Finally Satine stopped and her body relaxed as her breathing grew normal again. "Satine? Satine? Are you alright?" asked Christian anxiously. Satine tried to smile for his benefit, but it came out weak and more like a grimace.  
  
"I'm fine Christian. Don't worry...I'm just a little tired..." her voice trailed off as her eyes closed. Satine had either fainted or fallen asleep; Christian wasn't sure which. He drew in a shuddering breath and reached into his pocket for a handkerchief, which he used to gently wipe the blood off her slender fingers and chin. He stared at her pale face, now turned into his vest, ringed with a halo of fiery hair that juxtaposed sharply with her pale skin. What was wrong with Satine?  
  
**Author's Note** Hoped you liked this chapter! Chapter Four will be up shortly. Will the power that's darker than jealousy and stronger than love separate Christian and Satine? Find out soon! ^_^ 


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four  
  
The dawn light filtered over the sky like a fabric so finely stitched it was almost translucent. Satine lightly groaned before sitting up, her hand resting on her chest where a pain burned in the core like after every attack. Christian's arms, which had been entwined around her, dropped back gently to the softness of the train seat. He blinked wearily, being dragged out of a dark, deep sleep, before remembering with surprise the events of the night before.  
  
"Satine, are you alright?" He asked, looking at her as she breathed deeply, almost dizzily. Satine nodded and coughed gently, wincing as the fire in her chest reached a quick crescendo before dwindling back down. Christian took one of her hands, the skin feeling like chilled silk. "Satine, there's something wrong with you." He protested vehemently as she looked away, refusing to meet his eyes. She breathed out quietly, desperately not wanting to tell him, to ruin what they had, but knowing in her heart that she had to.  
  
"Christian, I'm...I'm dying." She whispered, the weight of her words dropping through the air like a lead feather. His eyes met hers, the anxiety in them deepening.  
  
"Dying?" he choked out, not wanting, unable, to believe it.  
  
"I have consumption, Harold told me before opening night." she said, more like a statement, the finality in her voice like an iron door clanging shut. Christian looked at her disbelievingly, a thousand thoughts whirling through his mind.  
  
"No, no, there must be something we can do...some medicine...something Satine, there must be something." He said desperately, the last words in the sentence fading into a exhalation of breath. Satine shook her head, tears now sliding down her face.  
  
"I'm dying." She repeated, the words breaking up as her crying became heavier and less controlled. She tilted her head into Christian's vest, her hot tears creating tiny patches of warm wetness that burned his skin like brands.  
  
"No Satine. You'll be all right. Don't worry." He said, more to convince himself than her. "We'll find a doctor. He'll find something for you." She swallowed down more tears, trying to get a hold of herself. "If there's any hope, any medicine at all for you, I'll find it. I promise." Satine sniffed, her tear streaked face turned up towards him.  
  
"...Really?" nobody have ever done this for her, or loved her so much as Christian did. Not even Harold or Marie at the Moulin Rouge.  
  
"Really darling." He brushed a stray tendril of her hair out of her face. She smiled and leaned up toward him, her lips warmly brushing his own. "Now you wait here, and I better find out where this train is going." He slid off of the seat as Satine dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief, looking beautiful even in obvious pain. He walked through hallway after hallway and through empty, red painted compartments, until finding the conductor. "Erm, excuse me," he said to the smaller man who had his backed turned to him. The man turned around and looked at Christian first with surprise and then suspicion.  
  
"I didn't know anyone else was on this train." He said, cocking an eyebrow warningly. Christian cleared his throat uncomfortably.  
  
"Well, you see there, er, wasn't, that is, until we got on." He said with a hopeful smile. The conductor didn't look amused, so he went on, "Yes, and, and, you see, we were running from this other man that wanted to kill us, and your train was there with the doors open so..." Christian's story seemed ridiculous even to himself, though it was the truth.  
  
"Your ticket please?" said the conductor, obviously not buying a word of Christian's story.  
  
"Well, you see, we don't exactly have a ticket, but, but, I'll be happy to pay..." Christian said, fishing around in his pockets. The conductor turned his gloved palm upwards, waiting for the money. Suddenly Christian realized that he didn't have anything on him. All of the cash he had was in his coat pocket he gave to Satine, which slipped off when they were running from the duke. He grinned hopelessly.  
  
"No money?' asked the conductor expectantly.  
  
****  
  
"Come on Satine, we have to go." Said Christian, grabbing his suitcase along with hers. Putting on another one of his own jackets, he draped one of his around her gently sloping shoulders and offered a hand to Satine to pull her up. She hurriedly straightened her hat and pulled on her gloves that she had taken off in the train.  
  
"Go where?" she asked with a puzzled frown. Christian sighed heavily.  
  
"Well, you see...." He shifted uncomfortably, "I ran into the conductor, and when he found out we had no tickets..." Christian shrugged unhappily, "he said we had to get off the train at the next stop." He grinned apologetically. "I'm sorry darling." Satine shook her head.  
  
"Nonsense Christian. I'll simply go see this conductor and we'll straighten this whole thing out." Christian opened his mouth to say something and then abruptly closed it when she glared at him. Satine glided through the hallways with Christian in tow and stopped when she saw the conductor. She pulled herself up to her full height and cleared her throat.  
  
"Pardon me," the conductor turned around. He was a full five inches shorter than Satine and he had to tilt his head up considerably to meet her eyes. "Yes, I heard that you were giving my..." she hesitated briefly before plunging recklessly ahead, "fiancé some trouble about our tickets." Christian's eyes widened as the word fiancé slid out of her mouth, but Satine seemed unfazed. "Now, I know that you are aware that we have no money, but I give you my word that we will pay you as soon as we arrive at our destination." The conductor stared at her shrewdly.  
  
"I will require some insurance." He said. Satine raised her eyebrow, thinking that in some respects, this man was rather like the duke.  
  
"Very well then." She said, unclasping her necklace. "There was a time when a lady's word could be trusted but..." she let the sentence hang in the air as she handed the conductor a shining pink pearl and sapphire necklace. All of the pearls were a snowy white with a rosy tinge, and were perfectly shaped and all the same size, while the blue stones glittered with a bright, fiery light. The conductor took it, staring at the pearls and jewels hungrily.  
  
"I suppose this will be satisfactory." The conductor said, before bowing greasily and walking away. Satine looked at Christian proudly.  
  
"Fiancé?!" he managed to gasp out.  
  
"Worked nicely, don't you think?" she said happily, mistaking his surprise for admiration. "I am a good actress." She added with a smug smile. Finally Christian said,  
  
"But darling, what if he runs away with your necklace before we get the money? I'm afraid you were a bit too trusting." Satine giggled.  
  
"There was a reason I was the "Sparkling Diamond" of the Moulin Rouge. I'm not naïve, Christian." She covered her mouth with her hand to stifle her laughter. "The whole necklace was completely fake." Christian laughed too, and pulled her toward him for a light kiss.  
  
**Author's Note** what will happen to our star-crossed couple? And where is their train going? Find out soon! ^_^ 


	5. Chapter Five

**Author's Note** Sorry it took so long to get this out! What with school and an intense case of writer's block, I was stumped! The obvious was to send S&C to London, and for lack of a better place, I did! **holds up shield against flames** WAIT! I'M NOT DONE! Don't leave yet! **clears throat** As I was saying, YES I sent them to London, but there will be a very interesting twist, I promise! I PROMISE! So don't leave, please read! **hehe, that rhymes, sorta, kinda** Anyways, sorry this chapter stunk so much. The others will be better! I LOVE REVIEWS!!!!!!!!! AND ALL THE REVIEWERS!!!! Thank you very much!  
  
  
  
"Everybody off! Last stop!" said the conductor in his harsh, grating voice. Satine and Christian both jerked up in unison, having both laid down for a brief catnap. They groped for their bags and groggily stepped off the train onto an unfamiliar platform, gray in the early evening light. It was only after the train doors were closing that realization hit Christian like a heavy stone being dropped into a pond.  
  
"Excuse me, but where are - " his word halted as the train began to move steadily away, the exhaust screening the platform in heavy yellow white billows that invaded the pairs' lungs, making them cough and gasp for air. After the toxins cleared, however, Christian's coughing ceased, but Satine's still went on, heedless of the clear air. She pressed a handkerchief against her lips to catch the blood she knew would come, and leaned against a nearby pillar for support. Christian immediately started toward her, but her breathing slowly fell back into its regular pattern and she smiled reassuringly.  
  
"I'm fine Christian, it's nothing." She said, picking up her suitcase.  
  
"Satine, you're sick. We have to get you some medicine." Said Christian, digging into his coat pockets for the money he put there yesterday morning, before he was filled with an unpleasant remembrance. He was wearing a different coat than he had been yesterday, because the coat with the money in it had been torn off Satine by the duke. His heart thudded sickly in his chest. **They were stuck in an unknown destination, with no money, while Satine was dying.** Satine interpreted the look on his face accurately, her own features falling.  
  
"We have no money." She whispered, staring down at the ground as the acceptance of the situation they were in swept over her. Christian tried to smile, but the hopelessness of their plight was reflected in his eyes.  
  
"Don't worry darling. I'll just write my father for some money, that's all." He said, picking her suitcase up for her. But even as the words came out of his mouth he doubted that they would ever be carried out. "Don't worry." Satine nodded numbly, fully realizing that it was unlikely Christian's father would ever do anything like that. "Now we may as well find out where exactly we've ended up." Said Christian, walking out of the station and blinking at the dying sunlight filtering through the air. Suddenly his eyes widened and his breath caught in his throat, finding out abruptly that where they were was the one place he didn't want to be and vowed never to go back to.  
  
"What's wrong Christian?" asked Satine with a frown, noticing the fast change in his body language. Christian swallowed, staring back at the train station longingly.  
  
"We're in….in London." He said. "Let's leave." He started to walk briskly back to the train station and up to the ticket booth.  
  
"No, no, Christian." Said Satine catching up to him. "I've always wanted to go to London." She said, linking her arm through his.  
  
"Satine, my parents live here. I said I'd never go back." He said, staring down at her pleadingly.  
  
"Oh Christian, it's a big city. We'll never see them." Christian sighed, looking down at her face, shining in anticipation like a small child. She seemed so happy….and it was true, he'd probably never see his parents anyway….  
  
'Fine, Satine. We'll stay in London, FOR NOW." He answered, making careful emphasis on the last two words. Satine clapped her hands happily, and kissed him joyfully on the lips.  
  
"I love you!" she said before scampering off into the city. Christian sighed and followed more slowly. They pawned Christian's watch, to Satine's great protest, because he simply wouldn't allow Satine to use her jewelry and got enough money for the couple to stay in a hotel for a couple of nights. A hotel as far away from his parent's house as possible. It was a very nice place, made of bricks and dark, glossy wood. The staff there was pleasant, and it had a clean, airy look and smell. Their room, on the second floor, was about the size of a large living room, with a king size bed, blue sheets, a dresser, table, a large oil lamp, and two nightstands, all made of mahogany Blue curtains to match the bedspread hung on a window that let in a good amount of light in the daytime and opened onto a tranquil view.  
  
"Oh Christian, I love it." Said Satine breathlessly, running a slender hand over the soft sheets. Christian grinned, put down their bags, and kissed her tenderly, yet passionately.  
  
"Now darling, I'm afraid that I must go downstairs and write that letter to Father." He said with a teasing smile. Satine pretended to pout, and then laughed.  
  
"Good, I need some time to unpack my clothes." She said briskly, opening her suitcase.  
  
"Unpack? You'll just have to pack it up again later though, darling." Said Christian, with a genuinely puzzled expression. Satine giggled.  
  
"Men! I have to unpack or my dresses will all lose their shape Christian." She explained, as if talking to a very small child. Christian shrugged good- naturedly and walked out of the room, closing the door softly behind him. He walked down into the lobby and composed the letter to his father, frowning in concentration not to say the wrong thing.  
  
Dear Father,  
  
I am now in London, and with my  
  
Christian paused, unsure of how to go on. What was he to say Satine was? If he said that she was anything but his wife, it even worsened the odds that his father would be willing to help him.  
  
wife, who is ill with consumption. Because of our financial situation, we are unable to afford the proper medications. Therefore, we ask of you to give us enough money to pay her medical bills. Your aid will be much appreciated.  
  
Your son,  
  
Christian  
  
  
  
Christian read over the letter once before putting it into the envelope, making sure he was careful not to mention Satine's name. His father, obsessed with what he called the "place of sin" or the Moulin Rouge, had extensively talked about the "evil" that was Satine, the girl that would rot in hell as she deserved. He handed the letter to the manager of the hotel, asking him to mail it, Then, smiling, he went back upstairs to Satine. 


	6. Chapter Six

Chapter Six  
  
  
  
Christian stretched groggily, feeling warm and contented. He rolled over in the bed and saw Satine lying next to him, breathing quietly, her red hair spilling down her slim shoulders and collarbone to the upturned corner of the bed sheet she had gripped around her. He smiled and lightly touched the pale, soft skin of her cheek, a shocking difference from the waves of crimson that framed her face. Her lips curved up faintly even in her sleep, and she sighed happily before snuggling deeper into the sheet and pillow. Christian swung himself out of bed and got dressed, being more of a morning person than Satine. Bright sunlight trickled in through the closed curtains, wafting softly in an unseen breeze, and was dyed sapphire from the brilliant blue fabric. Light bird chirping was carried on the wind, and the outdoor noises mingled harmoniously with the steady pounding of the keys on Christian's typewriter. About an hour later Satine woke up, immediately recognizing a familiar rhythmic sound. She looked around the room and found Christian sitting at the table with his typewriter, the sporadic click of the keys a soothing reminder of days past. She propped herself up on one arm and studied him, finding the common gentle frown creased over his features when he was trying to perfect an idea. "Having writer's block, my gentle poet?" she asked lightly. He looked up, surprised, as if shaken out of a deep reverie, and then laughed.  
  
"You know me all too well darling." He answered, lifting the finished paper out of the typewriter with a flourish.  
  
"It comes from seeing you write so much." She answered matter of factly.  
  
"Ah, a good author should never reveal all his secrets." Said Christian with a mock sigh. Satine smiled and pulled back the sheets from her body, unprepared for the blast of cold air meeting her bare legs.  
  
" Well, what could you possibly be working on now Christian?" asked Satine wrapping a robe around her nightgown and peering over Christian's shoulder at the already typed pages. She picked up one page carefully and read, " The woman I saw hanging on the swing was undoubtedly the most beautiful person that I had ever laid eyes on. She had long red hair draped around her shoulders, mesmerizing blue eyes, and was wearing a diamond studded corset that glittered provocatively in the spotlight. Her voice was seductively low and melodious, and I became transfixed as I watched her perform." For a moment Satine was silent. Christian waited tensely for her reply, anxious to know her judgment on his new endeavor. Finally she spoke, her voice quiet in awe. "Christian, this is…incredible. You're writing a story about our lives together?"  
  
"Yes." He replied simply. "I hope you like it, I haven't gotten that far though, only up until we met for the first time in the elephant – " Satine cut him off.  
  
"Christian, this is fantastic. You …really felt that way when you first saw me?" she asked wondrously.  
  
" And so much more Satine. I meant every word on that paper." He answered, almost surprised. "I fell in love the first time I saw you on the swing in the Moulin Rouge." Satine gently put the paper down on his desk, smiling in a delightfully surprised way.  
  
"And I love you too Christian. Always did, always will." She leaned over his shoulder to kiss him, when there was an abrupt knock on the door. Satine hurriedly pulled the robe tighter around her and crawled back under the sheets as Christian opened the door to reveal one of the servants holding a white envelope with Christian's name scrawled across it in neat, precise handwriting.  
  
"Not meaning to disturb you sir," he said with a brief touch of his hat as he held the envelope out to Christian, "but this letter was to be delivered to you this morning." Christian examined the envelope briefly, turning it over in his hands.  
  
"Oh here, for your trouble." Said Christian holding out several francs to the servant. The servant bowed respectfully and left down the stairs. Christian perched on the side of their bed, staring at his name written on the front of the envelope.  
  
"Who's the letter from Christian?' asked Satine, looking curiously at the unopened letter.  
  
"It's from my father."  
  
  
  
**Author's Note** I KNOW the last two chapters have been sucky, but I've been doing so much stuff lately that I didn't have time to develop the plot much farther. BUT HAVE FAITH!!! PLEASE!!! I promise my faithful readers, IT WILL GET BETTER!!!! Ok, that said, Chapter Seven is on the way, so no worries. I'LL TRY MY MORTAL BEST TO MAKE IT BETTER! Ciao! 


	7. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven  
  
  
  
Christian weighed the letter in his hands, feeling the heavy parchment inside that his father insisted to use. He drew in a long nervous breath, the anxiety almost palpable in the air, feeling his heart flutter in agreeably in his chest. If his father hadn't sent them any money, if he had denied his help, then Satine would…his reverie was shattered by Satine's voice.  
  
"Go on Christian, open it.' She said, the questions going through his mind undoubtedly scrawling through hers, her hands folded tersely in her lap and stared fixedly at the letter in apparent apprehension. Christian sighed and turned the envelope over to its blank backside, sliding his finger under the flap and hearing the paper tare loudly in the silent room. He slid the coarse paper out, opened its crisp three way fold, and read out:  
  
Christian,  
  
I received your letter just yesterday, and was disappointed to have found out that you have married. Undoubtedly to some whore whom you met in Montmarte, and have convinced yourself that you are in love with. Though I disapprove of your matrimony, I am in no situation to deny my only son financial aid. Therefore, as it does not seem that your need is immediate, I simply ask that yourself and your wife accompany your mother and I to a social dinner at 8:00 on Sunday evening, at the Golden Water mansion on 32 street. I trust that that time is convenient for yourself, and after I have witnessed yourself with your wife, I shall consider the circumstances of which I shall grant you money.  
  
  
  
Father  
  
  
  
Satine looked at Christian questioningly. "Just a dinner? I was expecting much worse." Christian however, was holding his head in one of his hands, the paper having floated gently down to the wooden floor.  
  
"Not so bad?" Christian repeated with a hollow laugh. " Darling, he wants to meet you." He said, his voice laden heavily with dread. Satine still looked puzzled, and she perused the letter one more time before tilting her head quizzically back up. "Satine, he hates you, he thinks you're the most despicable creature in the underworld." Realization overflowed Satine's eyes as she nodded understandably.  
  
"And if he doesn't approve of me he'll never give us money for my medicine." She stated blandly, absently turning over the envelope over in her hands.  
  
"Oh darling, I'll get the money some way, don't worry." He said, moving closer to her and wrapping a comforting arm around her waist. Satine bit her lip, her eyes clouding over.  
  
"This is all my fault Christian" she blurted out suddenly, the vehemence in her voice startling.  
  
"What?"  
  
" This, all this." She said, her head bowed slightly, her red waves curtaining her features. "Everything. If you hadn't ever met me, all this pain, all this uncertainty, all this suffering, would never have existed. The duke, my being sick, the worry of being caught, the wounds caused by jealousy, hopelessness, defeat, betrayal…" she trailed off, her breath catching in her throat. "Sometimes I think to myself that it would have been better for you if we had never seen each other that night of the Moulin Rouge, or if I had died on the stage of Spectacular Spectacular." She finished quietly. Christian frowned, his eyes widening as Satine completed her outburst.  
  
"No Satine!" he said, his intensity matching her own. "NEVER think that, darling. My life is so wonderful now that you're in my world. When I thought that you had died it was…horrible. I didn't want to go on living. I honestly don't know what I would have done. No matter what happens to us Satine, all that really matters is that I love you. Nothing will EVER change that." He said firmly, hugging her closer to him, her body so solid, so warm in his arms.  
  
"How could you say that when I'm to blame for everything horrible in our lives?" she asked tearfully, but this time her voice was laced with doubt.  
  
"I could say that when you're the cause of everything good in my life Satine. I longed to be in love, but never did I dare to hope that t could be as incredible as I feel now. You're my everything." Satine smiled through her sadness, once again marveling how someone like Christian could ever love her, a whore.  
  
"I love you too Christian." She whispered, happiness bubbling through that swiftly overtook the depression. He grinned.  
  
" Now Satine, I'm afraid you're going to have to pretend to be somebody else. Just for one night. You're a great actress." The words were harmless, but for some reason they sent a chill darting up her spine, a strange premonition of ill fate. Her grip on Christian's arm tightened, and he hoped that whatever future event she felt would never come to pass.  
  
  
  
**Author's Note** I FINALLY POSTED IT!!! A big weight off my chest. I hope you liked it, like I said, have faith! What does Satine's horrible feeling mean? Will she and Christian's love end in death? FIND OUT SOON!!! (Soon this time, I swear!) 


	8. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight  
  
  
  
The next morning was clear and bright, waves of light with golden crests softly ebbing against Satine and Christian's open window, sending in an unusual fall warmth to overflow the room. It was almost noon, and Satine was stretched out in the bed, propped up by pillows, and reading the completed portions of Christian's new story. Christian himself sat at the desk, lightly tapping out the next chapter on his typewriter. Even as she read though, a small lagging worry burrowed into her conscious thoughts. *I haven't had a bad attack in a while now… well, maybe I'm just getting better…* But in her heart she knew this wasn't true. She could feel her body slowly becoming more and more weak and tired, and the energy she had even a couple of months ago was far more than what she had now. It felt like it was an ever-growing effort to draw breath, but needless to say Satine hadn't mentioned this to Christian. *He's already concerned about me, and anything I say would just upset him more* she reasoned. Suddenly, just as she had feared, a burning pain clawed itself up her chest, bubbling acidic in her lungs. Her windpipe seemed to close up, the air pooling uselessly in her throat. She gasped for breath, wheezing and choking on her own blood that flowed out of her lips in steady trickles as she coughed. Christian immediately was at her side, one hand holding a handkerchief against her open mouth, the other wrapped in support around her waist. She could feel her consciousness drifting away, Christian's worried voice blurry in her mind, as she fell helplessly into an almost palpable darkness.  
  
****  
  
There were voices. Faint voices that tickled the outer edges of her now returning awareness. She recognized one as Christians, dripping heavily with fear and worry, but the other one, a darker, deeper voice, she could not remember hearing. Satine dragged her eyes open, uncomfortable with how much effort this one simple act desired, to painfully bright light. Above her she saw Christian's face, his features clouded with anxiety, and another person who, because of the stethoscope draped around his shoulders, she assumed to be a doctor. The image dissolved in and out of focus before finally sharpening. She blinked, trying to clear her blurry mind out of its sleep-induced drug. Christian looked down at Satine again, then sighed in relief and smiled when he found that she was up. "Oh Satine, I'm so glad you're awake." Satine sat up, staring at first Christian's, then the doctor's face.  
  
"What happened?" she asked, finding that there was a mental block from the time she had started to cough until now. "I remember fainting, then…" she trailed off, uncertain.  
  
"Well, you passed out, and I…called a doctor." Christian said, worry still prominent in his voice and eyes. "He said that you'll be all right if we get you the medications immediately." He added hopefully, reassuringly. Satine frowned.  
  
"How much would all this cost?" she said, already knowing she wouldn't like the answer.  
  
"About a thousand pounds." Said the doctor matter of factly. Satine inwardly winced, thinking that Christian's father would never give them that kind of money, and even if he did, it would most likely not be without a price. An uncomfortable silence smothered the air, each person not knowing what to say. "Well, I better be going." Announced the doctor finally, rising from the chair he was sitting on near the bed. Christian nodded, murmuring vague thank you's, as he politely opened the door and showed the doctor out. That completed, he returned back to Satine and perched anxiously on the side of her bed, the mattress sagging slightly from the added weight.  
  
"Are you all right darling?" he asked quietly, taking her slender hand in his, squeezing the silken skin lightly, watching her expression. She nodded listlessly.  
  
"I'm fine Christian. Really." She added more firmly. "But what are we going to do?" she asked, that hopeless, haunting look springing fiercely into her eyes, a look Christian knew well from the hardly far away days when she had to sleep with the duke. He frowned, wishing vaguely that their lives together would for once be uncomplicated. But instead he smiled in reassurance, attempting to make her feel better, to stop blaming herself.  
  
"Well darling, tonight is Sunday, the night we're supposed to meet my parents. That is, if you're feeling well enough." He supplied in concern. Satine nodded, giving him her 'I'll be absolutely fine, don't worry' look that they seemed to have perfected and passed back and forth in the relatively short time they had known each other. "My parents will see how happy we are together, and give us the money." He finished, overly simplifying the matter. But Satine smiled back and leaned forward to kiss him tenderly on the lips, but not without passion. Christian tilted his head, about to deepen the kiss, when-  
  
"Oh Christian! How long was I out? What time is it?" Satine yelled, watching the sunset outside of their window, the sun bleeding into the horizon, carpeting the sky with gold. Christian obligingly glanced at his watch, Satine's eyes widening.  
  
"Seven fifteen." He reported with a laugh, watching Satine's expression swiftly magnify to that of extreme horror as she scuttled out of bed, throwing her pink robe onto the floor, and practically tearing open her closet door to pull out a dress, while muttering curses.  
  
****  
  
Satine decided to wear a royal blue dress with creamy white trim, which had dipping shoulder straps and a billowing bottom, with a glistening almost silver mink wrap. Ropes of pearls cascaded from her shoulders down to the soft curve of her waist, and her fiery hair was piled into a bun with a few stray tendrils hanging loose to frame her face. Christian stopped dead when he saw her, his mouth hanging open in awe.  
  
"Do I look all right?" asked Satine anxiously, hurrying to close her matching white sequined clutch purse. Christian grinned, kissing her on the lips.  
  
"I've never seen you look more beautiful." Satine adjusted the tie of his tuxedo teasingly, grinning mischievously.  
  
"Same to you, my handsome poet." Christian offered her his arm with a mock bow, and Satine, giggling, took it. They walked down the stairs together and climbed into a shining coach that would bear them to Golden Water mansion.  
  
  
  
**Author's Note** Ugh, SO MUCH GOING ON!! SO LITTLE TIME TO WRITE! I apologize for the wait, and for the suckiness. Yes, in my fan fictions time passes quickly, don't it? Sunday comes fast… lol And I also have no idea what a thousand pounds is…I just picked an amount that seemed like a lot. Lol I know, I'm lazy. What will happen when they get there? Could I ever kill off one of the characters? ~laughs maniacally~ stay tuned for another chapter of….AWAY FROM THE MOULIN ROUGE!!! 


	9. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine  
  
  
  
Golden Water mansion was huge. A gigantic, intricately designed iron gate, rising to almost the roof top of the house, with two equally big marble columns flanking them took up most of the field of vision. The columns were adorned with twin majestic bronze eagle statues, opening up invitingly to a large garden lit enticingly with tiny lights embedded in the foliage, giving the greenery an angelic, fairy like quality. Satine gasped, clutching Christian's arm tightly, thinking that this house undoubtedly was the most beautiful thing that she had ever seen. They walked into the garden where the other guests were mingling happily, waving around crystal goblets glimmering gold with champagne. Satine immediately came into her element. Her "Sparkling Diamond" social smile shimmered fixedly on her face, as she laughed and giggled appropriately as the case desired. Christian himself nodded along detachedly, talking enthusiastically to perfect strangers not the thing he enjoyed most. But it obviously made Satine happy, so he just shrugged and went along. Then the front door to the mansion opened, and the guests filed in slowly, shaking hands with the host who waited at the door as etiquette required. Christian and Satine followed, Satine still engrossed in a conversation about Parisian fashions with another woman and her husband about she and Christian's age. Christian frowned, looking at the door, trying to catch a glimpse of the host. He thought he saw…his heart leapt practically into his throat, hearing a high nasal voice cut through the air.  
  
"Ah, yes my dear, so glad you could come…" Christian's eyes widened, yanking Satine's arm frantically.  
  
"Christian," she started with a frown, but he pointed towards the direction of the doorway wordlessly. She exhaled sharply, turning back to his face.  
  
"Come on Satine, we have to get out of here." He hissed to her, turning around and trying to maneuver the two of them through the thick crowd of people. But he was stopped short as he almost walked right into his parents.  
  
"Christian." Said his father in his usual gruff, sandpaper voice. He was short, a full three inches below Christian, dressed stiffly in a heavily starched suit. His mother was a small, thin woman, with chocolate brown hair pulled firmly into a French twist, her gloved hand resting lightly on her husbands forearm.  
  
"Father, we have to go." Whispered Christian vehemently, eyeing the doorway with obvious misgiving.  
  
"Nonsense Christian." Chimed in his mother, in a frail, tinkling voice that reminded Satine strongly for some reason of broken glass.  
  
"Mother, you don't understand…" said Christian, but by that time they had already reached the door.  
  
"So nice to see you again-" started the duke, extending a hand, before freezing as he caught Satine and Christian's faces, and spitting out angrily "You."  
  
"So you've already met?" asked Christian's mother pleasantly. The duke nodded, looking as if he was about to throw up or explode in anger, Christian couldn't decide which. He and Satine slunk quickly into the dining room, trying to get as far away as possible from the duke.  
  
"What are we going to do?" asked Satine, looking at the entrance to the dining room anxiously.  
  
"I don't know….we have to just act like everything's normal, all right? Everything will be fine." Satine nodded as the last of the people came in, and the pair took their seats at the table. The duke sat at the head, and stared, seething, at Christian and Satine for a moment before turning back to the other guests. Then, in perfect unison, six servants, three at one side of the table and three on the other, presented the piping hot trays of food. Everyone greedily began to help themselves, but Christian and Satine picked unenthusiastically at the meal, swirling the food nervously around with their forks. The duke looked at the two of them, overcome with burning jealousy and anger, fingering the gun in his waistcoat pocket he habitually kept there. *Satine is MINE!* he ranted internally, *Not that idiotic WRITER'S! I paid for, I OWN HER!!* His upper lip pulled unconsciously back in a sneer. *And I will make her mine.*  
  
  
  
**Author's Note** So, how did you like it? I finally got this chapter out in a half way decent amount of time! YAY! What will the duke do? Will he succeed in whatever evil plan he has? Stay tuned!! 


	10. Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten  
  
  
  
Satine wrung her hands nervously, the familiar fear when she was around the duke frothing burningly in her stomach. *He's insane.* she realized horrifically, watching one of his eyes twitching as he glared at Christian. *Insane with jealousy.* Christian caught one of her hands underneath the table, squeezing it reassuringly, her skin feeling impossibly warm and smooth, like heated velvet. The duke stared at them, unable to tear his eyes away, brimming with anger. *How DARE they come here!* he raged inaudibly, *Just purely to TAUNT me?!* His fingers arched unconsciously into fists, the still sane part of himself trying to force the murderous thoughts away, but the attempts were fruitless. *I'll kill them BOTH!* Christian whispered something in Satine's ear, and she sighed and smiled fleetingly for a moment, a smile filled with warmth, compassion, love. That small action sent the duke over the edge. He gripped the gun in his pocket so hard his knuckles began to dissolve into white, the tendons in his fingers straining. Then, with a feral cry, the duke stood up, pointing the gun directly at the pair. At first, the other guests at the table stayed sitting in a hushed silence, then the duke, enraged, fired a bullet, thudding into the wall slightly above Christian's head. The people screamed, knocking into each other frantically, trying to get out the small door. Christian pushed Satine down, looking for another exit to the room as the major one was obviously clogged. The duke fired again, a goblet over Satine's arm shattering with a high tinkle of broken glass.  
  
"Satine," Christian hissed, pointing towards the kitchen off the dining room, "Go over there. I'll find you."  
  
"No, Christian-" Christian glanced up to see the duke threading his way through the crowd of people, the gun still pointed at the pair, but as the duke was unable to get a good shot he couldn't fire.  
  
"GO!" Satine obligingly sprinted for the kitchen, her dress trailing out behind her like wisps a blue fog. The duke, seeing her run, changed his direction, moving now towards the kitchen. Christian glanced wildly around, searching for some kind of weapon. Strong arms encircled his neck, choking off his air supply. Christian tried to tilt his head, and saw that his attacker was the duke's manservant, Warner. The duke, seeing that Christian was decidedly out of the way, strode into the kitchen, the gun pointed outwards. Weakness flooded through Christian's body from the lack of oxygen, the pressure in his head building to intolerable amounts. His arms flailed, and his fingers hit something long, smooth, serrated. It was a steak knife from off the dining table. He grasped the handle tightly, and with the last of his remaining strength plunged it into Warner's face. The man's chokehold immediately loosened, and he fell to the floor, blood spurting out of his forehead in steady gushes. Christian massaged his neck, greedily sucking in air, before spotting Warner's gun on the floor. He picked it up, the metal chilly in his hands.  
  
"CHRISTIAN!!!" His heart raced, hearing Satine scream from the area to the left of the dining room. Christian ran through the kitchen, past shining pots and pans, and into the living room, where the duke had grabbed Satine, one hand gripping her neck, the other pressing his gun against her temple. Satine was quietly sobbing, her hands over her face.  
  
"You made me believe that you loved me." Choked out the duke, his fingers tightening on the trigger. One of the guns fired.  
  
  
  
  
  
*Author's note* I know this chapter was horrible, but Omg, I'm sorry, I HAD to do that. Which one will die, the duke or Satine? Would I ever murder one of my characters? Find out soon!!!!!!!! ^_^ 


	11. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven  
  
  
  
  
  
* The duke fired, the bullet growling briefly before embedding itself into Satine's skull. Christian caught her as she fell, easing them both to the ground. The duke, chillingly excepting what he had done, shortly pocketed the gun and turned on his heel, coldly stalking out of the room.  
  
"No, no, Satine." Whispered Christian, staring into her cold, dead eyes, glassily reflecting his tear stained face. From the right side of her head sticky scarlet fluid oozed out of the bullet wound, trailing down her cheek as is she was crying blood. He cradled her closely to him, her dead weight unexpectedly heavy against his chest. His breathing became darker, shaken by grief, his shoulders quivering as his crying became less controlled. "No Satine, it…it wasn't supposed to end this way…" he choked out, feeling her body, once so animated and warm, stiffen with cold. He buried his head on her shoulder, her soft red hair folding gently against his cheek, tears falling onto her powdery silken skin. "It wasn't supposed to end this way…" *  
  
Christian woke up abruptly, coated in a chilly, slick sweat, breathing heavily, his mind reeling. He turned over in bed, the mattress squeaking softly in protest, and faced Satine next to him, breathing quietly, a tiny smile hugging the corners of her mouth. Her incredible blue eyes were closed tightly in sleep, her hands wrapped around the white pillow, a shocking contrast to her flaming hair. He grinned, unable to suppress a slight twinge of relief. The duke, he remembered with a jubilant inner smile, was dead. The one gun that had fired, on that hardly distant night, had been Christian's. His parents, though shocked at what had happened, very much approved of Satine, still naïve about her true past as a courtesan at the Moulin Rouge. They had given the pair all the money necessary for medicine and more, and Satine was cured of her consumption, her breathing now relaxed and even. Christian deftly touched one of Satine's slender fingers, a simple engagement ring glittering elegantly. Nothing fancy, just a gold band with a single, sparkling diamond. Though to Christian, the real sparkling diamond was right here, sleeping angelically next to him in their bed.  
  
  
  
And so ends my story. A story about a time. A story about a place. A story about people.  
  
But above all things, a story about love.  
  
A love that will last forever.  
  
  
  
The End 


End file.
